Stitch in My Heart
by Bloody Sunset
Summary: Buffy runs out on Spike... Again. Not really new news, but she finds herself compelled to go back to him, and Spike has a theory as to why that is so... REVISED 112105


**Title: **Stitch in My Heart  
**Author:** Bloody SunSet  
**Email:** I thrive on it people, so feel free to tell me what you thought of my story.  
**Distribution:** Where ever, just tell me first, alright?  
**Summary:** Buffy runs out on Spike... Again. Not really new news, but she finds herself compelled to go back to him, and Spike has a theory as to why that is so... **REVISED**  
**Warnings:** There's really nothing in here you wouldn't see on the show, so I'm guessing it's not so bad as to have a warning label on it. Oh wait... there is a bad work in it, but I'm sure you can get over that...  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Disclaimer:** Ok, Buffy, Spike, not mine, as much I would like to have both of them under my copyright...  
**Notes:** A Spuffy Song Fic. The song is _I Hate (Everything About You)_ by Three Days Grace, I heard it and was inspired, and this story is what I could make of it, enjoy. Plus, this is the slightly longer, fixed, version of the story, since the first one was crap.

**Stitch in My Heart**

Buffy lay awake, staring at the stone cold ceiling of Spike's crypt. For a moment she was disoriented, and then she realized why she was there. She sat up, looking around, holding a silk blanket to cover her chest.

"Morning, love..." she heard his voice call to her from her left. She looked down at him, silent, angry with herself for letting this happen. Again.

He yawned, and looked up at her, "Was wondering when you'd wake up..."

She glared at him, wrapping the blanket tighter around herself, extremely self-conscious of his eyes on her. She knew he was waiting for her to speak, but she didn't want to. The silence that formed in the room was tense, and it was only broken by Spike's annoyed sigh.

He reached out and wrapped a hand around her waist, and pulled her to him. Buffy did not even attempt to stop him. She leaned against him, and closed her eyes. He smiled, not smirked, but smiled, enjoying the feeling of her warm body pressed against his cold one.

Then Buffy sighed, and leaned into him so much it caused him to fallback to the floor, lying down once more, her back against his chest. He secured his arms around her, and buried his face in the back of her neck.

Buffy bit her lip as he nibbled at her neck, her mouth opening slightly, drawing in a slow breath. She cursed herself for feeling this way, cursed him for making her feel this way.  
_  
Every time we lie awake _

After every hit we take

Every feeling that I get

But I haven't missed you yet

"Spike stop... please god..." Buffy said, moaning as his hands began to roam her body, but she whimpered when they stopped, disappointed at the sudden loss of the sensation that had slowly been consuming her. Why had she told him to stop? It had felt so good. Buffy blinks then realized she had to get out of there, before this got too far. And fast.

She sat up again, and wrapped the blanket completely around herself. And as she stood up, she received a questioning look from Spike, who was not trying to hide his disappointment at the fact that she had removed herself from the comfortable, in his opinion, position they'd just been in.

"What are you doing...?" he asked, staring up at her.

"I-I. I've got to go..." she told him, internally kicking herself for allowing her voice to tremble.

"Aw... c'mon now love, you don't have to go..." He stood up, seemingly completely unaware of his naked state, and wrapped his arms around her, pressing himself into her back and leaning in close to her ear. "You could stay with me..." he purrs seductively, his cool breath tickling her ear, and causing shivers to run up her spine at his implication.

Her eyes fell shut, and she moaned as his hands ran up and down her stomach, massaging her through the thin, soft fabric of the silken sheet. Then they snapped open, she knew what he was doing.

"No Spike, I have to leave now..." she said firmly, pulling out of his embrace, and grabbing her shirt off the side of his couch.

Pulling it over her head, she searched around for her pants. Finding them, she pulled them on; the small sheet she had used to cover herself was left on the floor in a heap. She picked up her shoes, and ran out the door. Into the sunlight, to the one place he couldn't ever follow her.  
_  
Every roommate kept awake _

By every sigh and scream we make

All the feelings that I get

But I still don't miss you yet

Buffy didn't stop running until she had reached the familiar pathway that lead to her front door. She locked herself away up in her room, panting from the quick get away as she flopped herself down onto herbed. She, once again, found herself staring at a ceiling, the only difference being that this was her ceiling, not the cold cement roofing in Spike's Crypt.

When she finally caught her breath, she swung her legs around to the side of the bed, letting them dangle off the edge. Sitting up, and dropping her shoes she lifts her right foot and begins to massage it gently. She hadn't had the time to put her sneakers back on before running out of his crypt, afraid that if she took the time she'd lose the resolve she'd had about leaving in the first place, and succumb to his seductive voice and actions.

Her feet hurt from the small rocks that covered parts of the cemetery walkways, and the pebbles and small pieces of glass that littered the streets all around town. She sighed, dropping her right foot and picks up the left one, her mind drifting to what Spike would be doing in response her to bolting away from him once more.

-------

Spike stood, completely naked, staring, unbelievingly, at sunlight that shone through his now open crypt door. Stunned at Buffy's sudden refusal of his affections, he blinked once or twice, and then growled. He should've expected no less from her.

Angry, he stomped over to the door, careful to keep out of the sunlight, and slammed it shut, cursing her and all she was worth. He picked up the silk blanket, and was about to violently throw it into the corner when he caught her scent on it, and froze. Just the scent of her was enough for him to draw a mental picture of what they had shared just hours ago. And that canvas in his mind was enough to calm him a little bit, but it did not clear the bitterness from his mind.

Spike sighed and grabbed his pants, pulling them on before sitting down on the couch. He draped the blanket over his lap and sighed once more, staring at the silk covering with a sullen expression on his face.

"Look what you've done to me slayer..." he muttered to himself, the anger he felt because of her resurfacing, "Got me falling head over bloody heels...and there's nothing I can do about it..."

He closed his eyes and growled, "But you know what, I'm not going to let you stand in my way anymore, I can't stand you bloody abuse!" He yelled, wishing she were there to hear him reclaim himself.

_Only when I start to think about it... _

I hate everything about you

Why do I love you

I hate everything about you

Why do I love you

Buffy stepped out of the shower shivering, whom ever had told her that cold showers make your problems seem to go away was an idiot. All it had done was make her extremely cold. She wrapped a towel around herself, and another one around her hair, hoping it would dry soon.

Shivering, she ran the towel up and down her body, still hoping it would help her to warm up, and it was working as a very efficient way to dry off as well. She stopped, and looked in the mirror, not quite sure who it was that was staring back at her.

The innocent, bouncy high school girl she'd once been had been replaced with a cold, desolate woman, and she wasn't sure she could blame this upon her friends taking her from her place of salvation.

"What's wrong with me... what am I doing with Spike, what am I doing_ to_ Spike...?" she asked the empty room, sighing, watching as a tear rolled down her reflection. She lifted a hand, and touched her cheek. Nothing. She didn't feel any wet, or any signs of tears. Confused, she shook her head, and dropped the towel to the floor, grabbing her clothes.

Completely dried off, Buffy stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in nice, warm, clean clothes. But she's only semi-happy, seeing how she had just run out on Spike a couple hours before; she had no one to run to. No one who would listen to her problems, or understand what she was feeling. Spike understood, but he was also her problem. He had taken advantage of her coming back from heaven, of her not being able to feel. He knew she was in pain and he was just taking advantage of her. That had to be the reason, he was a soulless, evil vampire, and that was when it clicked in her brain that she had to break it off with him.

No more secret meetings, no more sex, no more anything... Not with him.

-------

Spike cursed, and stood up, looking down at the shattered glass he held in his hand. The glass cut into his skin, but his body was numb. He needed her, needed her in his arms, to hold her and calm not only the distress she felt, but his own as well.

But no, she had run out, angry with him. What had he done wrong? Given her pleasure, let her escape from the world she claimed to be Hell for a little while? What was wrong with that? And it wasn't like she didn't want it either, she had come on to him, leading him on, and he had gladly jumped into it, even knowing that this was the eventual result of their actions.

He growled; mad at himself for being so stupid, for actually thinking that she could've wanted him. God he hated her, why couldn't she just leave him alone? Stay out of his dreams, stay out of his life!

He sunk back down into his chair, noticing the blood that was staining his pants, and cursed again. Closing his eyes, he sighed, wondering how long it will take before this day would end, before he could forget about her. Then he pulled out a small bottle that had been snuggly settled between the cushion he was sitting on.

Opening it, he downed its contents as quickly as he could, disoriented by the sudden intake of the alcohol, his body almost shut down, leaving him with no thoughts of any kind. And for a moment, he even forgot about her.

_Every time I lie awake _

After every hit we take

Every feeling that I get

But I haven't missed you yet

Buffy laid own on her bed, finding herself staring at the ceiling, thoughts filling her once empty head. There were thoughts about him, and thoughts about her and him, together, happy. But that could never happen. Would never happen. She hated everything he represented with a burning passion. He was evil, a cold-hearted killer, only held back by that damned chip in his head.

Why couldn't she see that, why couldn't she just stop thinking about him, and make him go away? Because it didn't work that way, her feelings were to strong; even she didn't know how she had come to like Spike. It made no sense at all to her, but she did, and she came to the realization that there was nothing she could do about it.

-------

Spike cursed, his memories flooded back into his head, hitting him like a brick shot out of cannon. Only probably even more painful. He just realized what she had done back there. She had rejected him. Shut him down, acting like it was his fault for what she had done.

That _bitch_.

But what could he do? He loved her, and yet loathed her with a passion. Their relationship was anything but ordinary. They never talked, all they did was fuck. It wasn't even love, now matter how much he wished it was, it was anything but love.

Sure, she had told him she was using him, but he had still come back for more, an eerie want lingered between them, and he knew she felt it. Even if she denied it with all that she was.

_Only when I start to think about it... _

I hate everything about you

Why do I love you

I hate everything about you

Why do I love you

Buffy knew what she had to do now, and it wasn't what she had resolved to do earlier.

She stood, and put her shoes on, racing out of her room, down the hallway and stairs, and out the door, leaving it to swing limply on its hinges. There was only one place she knew she could turn now.

She had to go back to him.

Even if it meant screwing up what ever there had ever had between them. The lust, the love, what ever it was, she had to know... did he really love her, or was this all just a sick, twisted way to bring her down?

-------

He growled, throwing the bottle against the wall of his crypt, listening to the sound of the glass hitting the wall, full force. Smashing, and shattering against the hard cement, the tiny pieces of the once clear container falling to the floor like a sharp rain.

He stood up, it would be dark in a few hours, but he didn't know if he could wait that long. The need to talk to her, convince her that she hadn't made a mistake by coming to him was the most important thing he could think of now, but the sun held him back, keeping him from getting to her.

Spike sighed, pacing back and forth, and muttering any word that came to his mind. Many he didn't even know the meaning of, and some were words of such anger, he didn't know why he would ever say them. There was only one reason he could think of.

Her.

She was everywhere, stalking him constantly. Maybe not physically, but she was always there, no matter where he went...

_Only when I start to think about you _

I know

Only when you start to think about me

Do you know

Buffy stopped in front of his crypt, staring at the door with a small feeling of foreboding lurking in the pit of her stomach. She hoped he wouldn't try to rip her throat out, and she knew that he probably wanted to, and was capable of it. That damn chip was malfunctioning.  
He could hurt her, but he never did...

As that last thought ran through her head, she slowly reached forward, placing her hand on the crypt door. She pushed and the door swung open.

"Spike... We need to talk..." she says, timidly stepping out of the sunlight, and into the cool shade of his crypt.

-------

Spike had to get out of there, something was calling him, she was calling him, and he could feel it. He could hear her heart beat, feel her essence, she was nearby.

He turned towards the door, and stared at it, wondering if he was imagining this feeling that told him she was there. He wasn't. The door opened, the light poured into the room, and he jumped aside to avoid it.

"Spike... We need to talk..."

He heard her voice, and became suddenly bitter, "What do you want slayer?" he asks, his voice covered in loathing or her.

_I hate everything about you _

Why do I love you

You hate everything about me

Why do you love me

"Spike please, don't do this..." she said, walking up to him cautiously, "I don't know what's going on, but I-I need you... truly, deeply I feel you inside me, you're always with me, and I... I just don't understand."

He saw the tears in her eyes, and instantly his mood changed. He felt sorry for her, he felt love for her. Stepping forward he wrapped his arms around her, "You want to know why, love?" he asks, holding her close to him.

She nods into his chest, wrapping her arms around him, just to see if she could get any closer, finding a strange comfort in his arms she knew would be there.

"It's because you love me..." he said, bluntly, going out on a limp, and looking down at her. She looked up confused, her mouth open, poised to speak.

_I hate _

You hate

I hate

You love me

I hate everything about you

But he cut her off and her mouth snapped shut, waiting for him to continue. "And I love you, and you know what?"

She shook her head, staring up into his eyes, and the question of 'what' shining in her own. He smiled down at her.

"There's not a damned thing either one of us can do about it..."  
_  
Why do I love you...?_

End.


End file.
